


Dying To Be Born Again

by astoryandasong



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boyd is ALIVE, Erica is alive, I havent even seen past season 3, In fact 3b is really just non existant for me, M/M, Stiles needs taken care of, Sugar Baby, allison is alive, there might be daddy kink, you cant make me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astoryandasong/pseuds/astoryandasong
Summary: Peter starts taking care of Stiles.





	1. Chapter 1

It started when he was researching with Peter and complained that his phone had gotten cracked _again_ , and there was no way he could afford to replace it with anything good.  He’d been spending more time with Peter in Derek’s loft, the insults having turned to actual conversations some weeks ago.  Peter got his humour and they often shared an eyeroll when Scott was being particularly moral.  So he thought nothing of telling the story of how his phone met its end at Erica’s sharp clawed feet.

 “What a shame.” Peter had said, brushing Stiles’ shoulder gently as he passed.  Peter had started touching him, _a lot._  Which he likes  but it makes Scott’s hackles rise, both literally and figuratively.

 

The next day a courier arrives at his house with a new phone, better even than the one he’d had before.  In the box is also a pair of black skinny jeans and a burgundy button down shirt in some soft material that feels like it cost more than his whole wardrobe combined.

When he switches on the phone there’s one number on it already and one photo in the gallery.  The photo is of a man’s torso, sparsely covered in hair and well muscled.  The number is saved in the contacts labelled _Peter._ He could have leave it there of course, not use the phone, not respond with a picture of himself shirtless.

But he’s never been particularly good at impulse control.  So he takes off his shirt and snaps a picture in the mirror.  Sends it to the number and waits.

The phone pings with a text: _I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.  Wear what I bought you._

He’s tempted to answer _fuck you I wear what I want_ but both his curiosity and the low hum of arousal in his belly have him answer _where are you taking me?_

_Somewhere nice where we can spend some time together._

So Stiles takes a shower and absolutely rubs one off thinking of that text in Peter’s voice.  Spend time together. Fuck. He’s thought about Peter this way before- that night in the garage.  He’s not _stupid,_ knows that what happened between them was unusual.  The offer of the bite on the wrist meant something, which is why he’s never mentioned it to Scott or Derek.

So he kills some time on his laptop, dresses himself in the impossibly soft shirt and jeans.  Listens for the rumble of an engine.

 

 Peter arrives on the dot, driving a sleek black Audi. He looks good himself- black pants, blazer and v-neck.  Stiles slides into the car and tries not to look as nervous as he feels.

“We’re going to a place I know in the next town over.”

“Sounds good.”

“I made sure that nobody will disturb us.”  Peter is so smug he’s practically purring. Puts one hand on Stiles thigh, which feels like the filthiest thing that has ever happened to him, ever.  

The hand stays there while they drive, while they talk about  Derek’s plans to rebuild the Hale house and only moves when they pull up to a restaurant.

Peter opens the doors for him and greets the waiter like an old friend.  The decor says Italian and so does the smell of basil wafting from the open kitchen. They’re seated at a table near the back. He lets Peter take the seat against the wall without comment. Then they talk. There’s food somewhere and it’s delicious.  But mainly he concentrates on the way the light from candles plays in Peter’s werewolf eyes.  He finds himself laughing at Peter’s dry jokes.

“This is the first real date I’ve ever been on.”  He says.

“The obliviousness of your peers is my luck then.” Peter replies and raises his wine glass in a toast.

It’s late by the time they leave, the staff are drifting to their coats, the lights dimming.

Peter’s hand settles on his thigh on the way home again. Stiles is full and tired, utterly content.  He knows that there will be problems with this- the age gap, Scott, his dad.

But doesn’t care right now, in all honesty.  If he lived alone he would invite Peter to bed, or he would go to Peter’s.  He feels light in a way he hasn’t in a long time. But his Dad will come off shift in the early hours, and no doubt he will want to check in on Stiles.  Now he knows about werewolves he’s even more protective.

So when Peter kisses him until he’s panting for air outside his house he regretfully gets out of the car and waves as Peter drives away.  

 

The next day at school nobody comments on his new phone.  Lydia gives the jeans a nod of approval though, which is nice.  Allison does however notice when he blushes tomato red at the selfie Peter sends him while he’s in math class. When it pings again, it’s his bank, saying that there’s been a deposit of $500.  The reference reads _buy yourself something nice._

 He goes online that night, buys himself something that he has to jerk off just considering. He’s looked at male lingerie before, but it’s expensive.

 Stiles spends quite a while  looking at styles, thinking of colours. Imagines the feel of silk and satin on his skin. In the end he chooses the same shade of burgundy as the shirt.  He trembles a little as he adds them to his basket and enters Peter’s apartment as the delivery address.   Sends a link to Peter to show him what he’s bought.

  _Nice for both of us_ he types.

  _Are you going to wear them for me?_

  _Yes_

_Fuck, Stiles. You’re going to be so pretty for me._

 They haven’t had the talk about sex yet that Stiles knows they need to have.  But he’s eighteen in three months and it isn’t like he hasn’t figured out by now what turns him on.  Having a hot older man fuck him and call him pretty is definitely something that he’s into.  Knows if he responds negatively to pet names or being called pretty Peter will stop.

_I want to be pretty for you_

_Are you going to be my pretty boy?_

Stiles is so, so hard now.  He spends a few minutes arranging himself and taking the perfect picture of his hard dick, sending it to Peter.

 _I am,_ he says, _I am_

 

At the pack meeting the next night Peter prowls around more than he usually does, earning an annoyed glare from Derek.  He only settles when Erica moves from her seat on the couch next to Stiles and he can take her place, thigh to thigh. When the others go out to patrol, he pulls Stiles into his lap and proceeds to make him absolutely lose his mind. Stiles has made out before but not like this.  Not like it might slip into sex at any second.

When Stiles’ mouth is red and swollen and the zip on his jeans is probably making an imprint on his dick, Peter pulls back a little.

He strokes Stiles hair gently with one clawed hand.

 “I want to take care of you Stiles. I’m good at it, I promise.”

 He looks so sincere that Stiles has to kiss him a little more.

 "What do you mean by taking care of me?”

 “Making sure you have everything you need my darling.”

 “Why me?”

 “I told you before Stiles, I like you.  You’re a very cunning, loyal boy with a great deal of potential. A spark with close ties to a werewolf pack not afraid of a baseball bat or a molotov cocktail. I want to put my face between your legs and taste you. I want to make you howl.”

He pulls their hips closer together into a filthy grind that makes Stiles’ eyes roll back in his head. 

“I want to dress you in the finest things and feed you breakfast in bed.  To see you in those panties and bend you over every available surface. I’m not a good man Stiles, I know that.  You’re so young, and I should wait. “

He mouths at Stiles’ neck, just the slightest hint of teeth.

“But if you’ll have me now, I want you.”

All Stiles can do is moan.

“Yes, Peter, yes. I want it.”

“The others are on their way back my lovely.  Let me drive you home. Then perhaps at the weekend you’ll let me take you out again.”

He pauses.

"It's up to you of course, but your dad should know that you're seeing someone."

"Well the thought of that chat with my dad effectively killed my boner, thanks."

Peter just laughs at him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Berkeley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, the reaction to the first chapter was amazing!
> 
> And um, swear they'll bone in part 3

The rest of the week flies in. He knows that Lydia at least knows there’s something going on with him. Scott, bless him, is thankfully as wrapped up in Allison as ever doesn't seem to notice.

Peter’s organised an overnight for them in Berkeley under the guise of buying magical supplies they can't get in Beacon Hills. He sent Stiles photos of the room he’s booked.  When Scott commiserates with him about having to be alone with Peter he has to bite back a grin.

As it gets closer, their texts get more explicit. Just as well there’s a fingerprint lock on his phone.

_Im imagining you spread on that bed wearing nothing but what I give you_

Not that his dad would ever check his phone. He’ll need to tell his dad eventually. Bad enough that he asked where Stiles got the new phone - he’ll definitely notice if Peter keeps giving him gifts. He does have to tell him about the overnight- but if his dad assumes Scott is going as well he doesn't correct him.

Saturday comes and Peter’s Audi appears outside his house.  Stiles can sense the curtain twitchers eyeing the car and the handsome man within.

Peter looks so, so good.  Stiles is going to lose his virginity tonight to this guy. He gives Peter a kiss on the cheek as he slides in. He doesn't have any bags. Just his phone and wallet- Peter told him to leave everythIng else.

“I thought we could do a spot of shopping this afternoon.”

 _“_ What sort of shopping?”

“I’ll put it this way, we should both get some things that we want.” He grins, showing off his teeth. Stiles wonders absently if werewolves ever need to go to the dentist.

They listen to Peter’s surprisingly good playlist on spotify on the way.  He likes rock that tends towards the folkier end of things.  Stiles loves his jeep, but he hopes that one day Peter will let him drive this car and he says so.

“I’ll buy one for you sweetheart.” Peter winks.

“Haha very funny.”

“I would never joke about something like that.  If I didn’t know how attached to the jeep you are.”

“It was my mom’s car.”

“I know.”

They’re quiet for a while then.  Stiles was last in Berkeley to visit the college with his dad.  It was before all the supernatural drama kicked off.  When it looked like he might graduate early and actually get a scholarship. But he can’t leave Beacon Hills now, he knows.  They’re bound there to the Nemeton, to the magic of the old groves and rhythms of the preserve. He’s started physical training to join the Sheriff’s department. It will suit him and benefit the pack, which is all he can really ask for.

They pull into the underground parking garage of the hotel. Peter herds him into the lobby with one hand on the small of his back. Proprietary, to use a Scott word of the day.  He tries to pay attention, he really does.  But he tunes out of the conversation Peter has with the receptionist. All Stiles can think of is the bed from the photo that’s waiting for them.

Peter kisses him in the elevator up to the room.  He’s smiling at Stiles, really smiling, not the sarcastic one he usually wears in company.

As soon as the door shuts behind them he’s trying to climb Peter like a goddamn tree.  He’s hyper aware of the bed. Peter gently peels him off, which makes Stiles whine in the back of his throat.

“Later my darling.  I have plans for you this afternoon.”

So they leave Peter’s bag in the room. It has occurred to Stiles that the underwear he bought especially will be in the bag.  He can’t dwell too much on it though as his jeans are really too tight for that.

A cab is hailed and Peter directs the driver to an upscale looking shopping centre downtown.  

“You’re joking, aren't you?”   None of the store windows have anything that looks remotely in the price range he’s used to.

“I said that I would make sure you have everything you deserve my darling, didn’t I?”

Stiles can only nod.

For the next two hours he understands how Julia Roberts felt in _Pretty Woman_ when all the store assistants are falling over themselves to help him.  They seem to quickly catch on that Peter is the one with the money and that his is the opinion that matters on what Stiles will be wearing.

Blazers, jeans, dress trousers.  A suit that makes him look older and sharply dangerous with a berry coloured tie.  Dress shoes.  Expensive looking underwear.

Peter hasn’t physically touched him the whole time, but his eyes are heavy all over Stiles’ body.  He’s about ready to climb out of his skin.

 

When they’re done and back in the hotel room, Peter unpacks the bag which definitely does contain the underwear. They’re the same colour as the tie Peter picked out for him earlier.

“I think these for tonight darling, don’t you? Under the suit.”

He packs Stiles off to the shower alone, which seems unfair.  But it takes ten minutes for Stiles to get his erection down enough to put on the underwear.  When he looks in the mirror at the boy in berry coloured panties it nearly undoes all his effort. Shit he looks good.  It makes him preen a little to think how wild it’s going to send Peter.

Stiles puts on the fluffy white robe provided and waits until Peter has gone in for his own shower to finish dressing. He wants to surprise Peter, to make sure that he gets something good out of all the luxury he’s given Stiles today. Peter however, exits the bathroom naked as the day he was born and proceeds to give Stiles the sexiest backwards striptease in the universe.  Stiles absolutely cannot wait to be spread out over those _thighs._  

 

Another cab, this time to Chez Panisse.  Stiles has always wanted to eat here.  His mom and dad came on a date once when he was a kid and his mom had raved about it for ages after.  Peter orders some gorgeous salad with goats cheese and they eat pizza with artichokes and eggplant. It turns out Peter used to be a lawyer  and had just taken up a public defender job before the fire.   He’s interested in Stiles thoughts on how they can ward the Hale house so that unless one of the wolves takes you there, you’d never find it.

“They’d just keep wandering in the woods! Completely non violent but very annoying. Unless the wards recognise you, poof, there you go.”

“Very clever.  What do you think of our efforts on the house so far?”

Stiles chews slowly.  Personally if his whole family had burned up somewhere he wouldn't be so keen on rebuilding it, but the house stands on a nexus of ley lines.  It has importance to the pack beyond wood and stone.

“I think I’m trying to imagine Derek living in an actual house.”

“Hopefully one day we’ll all live there.”

“All of us? Can you see Erica and Lydia sharing a bathroom? Carnage.”

Peter laughs.

They don't eat dessert and Stiles doesn’t even try to look at the bill.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The porn.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos!

Peter keeps a hand on his thigh all the way back in the cab.

He smiles out of the window. This was never how he’d thought he’d lose his virginity. To an older man in a fancy hotel room, pleasantly warm from a glass of wine and expensive food.  Certainly not in the silk panties under his suit. Which he can't think about for more than a few seconds or else he won't be able to walk up to the room.

But he always thought he would be nervous and he isn't. Though some would think it odd he trusts Peter to take care of him.  Peter pays for the cab and opens the door for him.  That hand on the small of his back again, Stiles blushing because surely people must  _ notice.  _  Peter’s smirk says he likes the looks they’re getting. 

 “They’re jealous.” He says when they’re in the elevator. “They all know you’re mine.”

The hand on his back drifts down to Stiles’ ass and squeezes.  All Stiles can do is make a noise in his throat too close to a whimper for his comfort.  Luckily for his dignity nobody else gets in the elevator until their floor. 

As they walk down the corridor he keeps waiting for the nerves to kick in.  But the only thing that makes him breathe faster as the door to their room opens is arousal.   The city is glittering through the windows and Peter takes off his suit jacket. The movement of the muscles in his back under the white of his shirt make Stiles’ mouth go dry.

And his ass, goddamn it. It’s  _ amazing.  _

 There’s champagne chilling in a bucket beside the window and Peter pops the cork.

 “Are you trying to get me drunk?” Stiles raises an eyebrow. “I’m pretty much a sure thing anyway.”

 Peter pours and hands him a flute.

 “I did promise to introduce you to the finer things in life, didn’t I?”

 He advances forward like a predator, like a wolf.  One hand goes to Stiles’ belt and draws him closer.  Into a kiss that fizzes with champagne and makes him press himself into the heat of Peter’s body.  In Stiles’ opinion the finer things in life include Peter’s tongue, his hands, the strong thighs that he wants to ride sometime fucking _yesterday._  The hint of hardness that he’s been dreaming of sliding down onto.He chases that mouth as it draws away.

 “I want you to take off all your clothes for me my darling.” One finger under his chin like that night on the lacrosse field. 

 He wonders if Peter can actually read his mind and knows he jerked it like crazy to the feeling of Peter pressing him up against the trunk of that car.  That he fantasized about Peter ‘persuading’ him with a dick in his mouth.

 Peter sits on the end of the bed and leans back on his elbows. The raised eyebrows are a question and a challenge.  He has put the ball firmly in Stiles’ court as to how this goes.  If he quickly strips off and onto the bed, Peter will roll with it.

 He gulps some more champagne and says,

 “Do you want me to be your good boy?”

 It comes out much shakier and less confident than he’d like, but it has the desired effect.  Peter's eyes flash blue for a second.  Siles can see that his claws have come out.

 “Yes Stiles. I want you to be my good boy. Take off everything I bought you and let me see that pretty underwear.”

 Impossible to resist that voice.  Or keep his eyes off of the bulge at the front of the perfectly tailored pants. 

 His fingers do shake a little as he undoes the shirt. Eyes on him as heavy as a touch. He fully expects the front of the panties to be soaked with his own precome as he pushes the pants off his hips.

 “Don’t worry about ruining anything pretty one.” He draws Stiles in by the hips and licks his lips as Stiles steps out of the pants and into the V of Peter’s spread legs.

 He must be an absolute sight. Naked but for dark berry coloured silk underwear that he’s leaked all over.  His cock straining against the material. 

 “Oh my darling boy.” Peter nuzzles his face into Stiles’ groin. “You smell delectable.” He grins and then sucks on the head of Stiles cock through the underwear. It makes Stiles cock jerk.

 “Can you tell me why you don’t need to worry about ruining your things, Stiles?”

 It takes Stiles a second to formulate thought again. 

 He looks down at Peter with big doe eyes and says,

 “Because Daddy will buy me new ones.”

 The hands on his hips tighten. 

 “Exactly. Now lie down on the bed for me.”

 He watches intently as Stiles takes his place on the bed.  Then he takes off his own clothes.

 “One day Stiles, I’ll put you on your knees and you’ll suck my dick while I’m still wearing this suit.” He says it musingly as he undoes his belt, which he runs down Stiles’ thigh. It seems to take an age before he’s crawling up Stiles’ body, scenting him all the way. 

Their kisses now have teeth in them and Peter spends what feels like forever nuzzling and nipping at Stiles’ neck.  He’s been holding his weight off of Stiles and when he finally presses himself down skin on skin Stiles almost comes right then, arching up into Peter. 

The panties are ruined completely when Peter unsheathes a claw and cuts them away from Stiles’ body.  It shouldn't be hot, but it is.  Hotter still is Peter pressing his legs apart and looking at him like he’s the dessert they skipped.  

“You’re so pretty. How am I the first person to touch you like this?”

“I’m an acquired taste.” Stiles pants.

“Not to me. I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you. You smelled so good.”

He trails his fingers lightly over Stiles’ hole.  Peter’s own dick is leaking against his stomach.  Stiles had known academically that he liked dick. He’s seen enough porn, okay and he really, really likes his.  But looking at Peter right now he’s just swamped with the knowledge that he wants to do  _ everything.  _ With him, to him, on top of him and in as many ways as possible. 

He’s experimented with toys, so he knows that he likes that too. So when Peter holds up the lube and raises his eyebrows in question, Stiles can only nod. 

“Please.” He says as Peter pushes one thumb in slightly. That gaze flickering intensely between Stiles’ face and his own finger where it’s inside Stiles. 

“I know you’ve touched yourself here. Do you like it?”

“ _ Yes _ .”

“Yes what, Stiles?”

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut.  

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Peter grunts and pushes another finger in. When Stiles opens his eyes again Peter is touching himself too, which is the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.  Peter Hale, with his stupidly sexy greying chest hair and thick fingers. Touching himself and looking at Stiles like he’s an oasis in the desert.

Fingering him open with two, then three fingers. Telling Stiles that he’s pretty, that Peter will take care of him.

“Please Peter,” he whines. “I want to come with you inside me.”

“You can have whatever you want.”  He removes his fingers manhandles Stiles until he’s half over those thighs, almost bent in half. 

_ Lucky I’m flexible _ , he thinks as Peter begins to push in. Peter is only slightly bigger than the toy under his mattress at home, but the feeling of being completely out of control is almost unbearable.  It doesn’t hurt- he’s too well prepared for that but the feeling of being full, of being  _ fucked  _ is so different. 

He loves it.  When Peter moves he hits Stiles prostate every fucking time and Stiles is whining, saying Peter’s name over and over.   It’s so much. 

Stiles comes as soon as Peter puts a hand on his dick, all over Peter’s hand and his own stomach. 

Peter pulls out then and fists himself until he comes all over Stiles too.  It’s so hot that Stiles cock gives an involuntary jerk. 

They collapse next to each other on the bed and kiss gently until Stiles feels himself doze.  He wakes when Peter lifts him gently from the bed like he weighs nothing and deposits him in the huge jacuzzi tub, climbing in behind him. 

There’s more champagne and Peter washes him gently, massaging his scalp.  Stiles feels so relaxed he’s almost boneless.  They talk too, which is nice. Peter suggests a movie and they end up ordering more food from room service and eat it while they watch Hot Fuzz, cuddled up in fuzzy bathrobes on the bed. 

Stiles sleeps for eight hours without a single bad dream.  It’s the best sleep he’s had in months. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably write more in this 'verse. Prompts welcome as well! I'm astoryandasong on tumblr as well.


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